


And a Merry Fucking Christmas to You

by Ryuuwriter



Series: The Sterek Bones!Au [2]
Category: Bones (TV), Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Bones!AU, Christmas, F/M, Forensic Anthropology, Happy ending though, It's the one that sparked the whole AU, Laura is Derek's Daughter, M/M, Mystery, Sad, Science, Secret Santa, Slow Burn, This one is one of my favorites, back story, yay
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-23
Updated: 2019-01-04
Packaged: 2019-03-22 21:19:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13772772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ryuuwriter/pseuds/Ryuuwriter
Summary: The holidays were already a drag, why not add a 60 year old murder, a deadly virus, and secret Santa just to make it that much better. Ep 9 Season 1 of Bones.Yes I am aware that it is not Christmas but this needed to be written and I'm not waiting till Christmas to do it.Check out the Series tumblr for updates and art.https://www.tumblr.com/blog/sterekbonesau





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello Everyone! Welcome to the next installment of the Sterek Bones! Au This one is based on episode 9 season 1 The Man in the Fallout Shelter. Like last time things will be a little different in the writing, but all in all it's the same plot. I warned you so don't get mad at me for that. Other than that I hope you enjoy it.  
> P.S. Yes I know it's not Christmas, but this was to be started either at Christmas or finished at that time. Obviously that didn't happen, but the order is important for the over all plot so it stays in this order and this one will be done probably in July.
> 
> Check out the Series tumblr for updates and art.  
> https://www.tumblr.com/blog/sterekbonesau

Stiles wasn’t the biggest fan of Christmas, he usually spent the holiday season in some random country digging up bones trying to forget the whole holiday season, but no Lydia had denied his request for vacation this year and he was stuck. Surrounded by cheap Christmas decorations, and drunk co workers. He would much rather be working, which he was, thank god, but he could still hear the bloody Christmas/ pop mix music playing even down in the lab. His biggest priority though that avoiding Scott.

Scott meant well, Stiles knew that, but just because he was a Christmas nut, didn’t mean Stiles had to be. He had his reasons for not liking Christmas, and it was up to him what he did with his holiday.

“STIIIILES!!!!” Scott whined as he chased after the anthropologist. Scott was wearing his usual holiday outfit, a weird springy Christmas hat and an ugly Christmas sweater, this year’s sweater was red with classic cross stitching on it reading “Why is the Floor wet, Todd?” Stiles would give Scott an A for effort, but that sweater was only funny if you had the other half of it.

“Scott, I don't want to, and would you stop chasing me! I have work to do.” Stiles said walking onto the examination platform.

“Dude, could you stop galloping for, like, two seconds?”

“It’s easier to avoid peer pressure if you can’t catch me.”

“How did that work out for you in school?” Scott asked looking rather unimpressed with his friend.

“Your sweater is unfinished.” Stiles stated changing the subject.

“Well lucky for you I brought you a sweater too,” Scott stated excitedly pulling a green sweater like his own, but this one read “I don’t know, Margo!” Stiles could admit it was pretty funny, but he still wasn’t going.

“Scott, I appreciate the effort but no, go ask Allison to be your sweater buddy.”

“Come on! Call it a favor.” Scott tried.

“How is me going to a company Christmas party doing you a favor?”

“Remember what happened last year?”

“I didn't go last year.” Stiles had been in Peru, and it had been fantastic.

“Yeah, exactly. And I made a fool of myself trying to propose to a potted plant that I thought was Allison, then broke down in tears when ‘Plantison’, apparently turned me down.” Scott recapped.

“Oh yeah I remember that, the video that Garson took was hilarious.” Stiles snorted thinking of the video.

“Yeah and it took me months to get rid of all the copies of it, Thankfully Allison never saw it.” Scott stated looking rather proud of himself. If only he knew stiles still had it on his computer, he watched it when he was over tired and laughed for hours. Allison liked to join him sometimes.

“Come on, Matts going to try and spike the eggnog with 100% alcohol.”

“I’m allergic to cinnamon.” Stiles stated pulling on some gloves to examine a skull sitting on his table. “And I know it’s _you_ trying to spike the eggnog. Lydia will end you.”

“Not If _you_ distract her.” Scott stated wiggling his eye brows suggestively. “You know she wants a taste of the Stiles.” He continued poking at the anthropologist.

“Scott, you know Lydia and I are never going to happen. Let it go and stop betting on my love life.” Stiles stated turning to his friend irritated. “And yes I do know about the pool.” He added with a smug smile.

“I have no clue what you are talking about, I just think that if you are going to take over the world together it should be _together,_ ya know?” Scott pouted, he was a full-grown adult he should not be able to be that sad and adorable, Stiles thought fighting against the forces that were Scott McCall’s kicked puppy look. And yet his powers were too strong, for Stiles could feel his resolve break.

“Alright fine! 20 minutes that’s it.” Stiles stated with a grown, breaking against the guilt from the puppy dog pout. He was being dragged by an excited Scott when he heard a familiar voice echo through the empty lab.

“Stiles!” Derek called out into the empty lab before noticing Stile standing on the platform. Stiles turned to the agent and annoyed look on his face, great one more distraction.

Derek strode into the lab  with a purpose, a briefcase swinging at his side.

“Merry Christmas Derek!” Scott greeted happily. Derek gave Stiles a questioning look, as if asking ‘is he ok?’ Derek was the only person Stiles knew that could talk in fluent sentences with just his eye brows.

“Ignore him, he’s had one to many eggnogs,” Stiles explained wrestling his arm out of the clingy entomologist’s grip. “I doubt you came in for a quick holiday greeting, so what you got for me?” Stiles asked leaning over the rail of the platform reaching for the file under Derek’s arm.

Derek took a step back from the scientist pulling out the file and away from.

“Ah ah, what’s the magic word?” Derek teased.

“Bite me, now gimmie,” Stiles grunted stretching farther over the rail. Derek relented with a roll of his eyes and handed the file to the flailing Scientist before he could hurt himself. Stiles flipped threw the file quickly looking over the report.

“A federal property on Dupont Circle where Congress puts up visiting agricultural specialists, they're digging to put in a solarium, and they find a fallout shelter with... a skeleton inside.” Derek summarized quickly.

Stiles flipped to the back and pulled out the crime scene photos. The photos indeed revealed a skeleton, dusty and in a reasonable condition, Stiles noted quietly to himself. The man lay on the floor face up a dried pool of blood underneath him, left there with not chance of being found. A pistol was placed under one of the hands draped over his chest. A set up then

“How long was it in there?” Scott asked leaning over Stiles shoulder to get a look at the file .

 “Shelter was built in the fifties, part of that whole A-bomb panic,” Derek replied.

“Well it’s not a suicide,” Stiles stated flipping through the file a second time.

“Why not? Hole in the head, you see the gun, it's a suicide,” Derek asked turning from Scott, he seemed far more defensive than usual.

“He shoots himself in the head and somehow his arm ends up across his chest?” Stiles asked showing the picture to Derek. “Bring the skeleton in, I'll prove it wasn't a suicide.” An almost excited look crossed Derek’s face at Stiles confident words.

“Merry Christmas, Bones,” he said bfore letting out a long loud whistle. “Come on, boys, bring it in,” He called. Two FBI agents came into the room at Derek’s call, a stretcher held between them with a body laid out on it. Not just a body though, _the_ body.  Scott let out an indignant groan at seeing the body being lifted onto the platform.

“Oh, come on! I just convinced him to come to the Christmas party,” Scott exclaimed angrily.

“Well, you go ahead. I'll do a cursory examination and I'll meet you in a few minutes,” Stiles suggested unapologetically. Scott looked at his friend unimpressed, now that there was a case he knew that it would be impossible to get Stiles out of the lab.  Stiles rolled his eyes at Scott and turned to Derek who was helping lower the body to the examination table.

“Hale, will you escort Scott to the Christmas party and make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid.”

“No, not him. He’s boring,” Scott whined.

“You’re not my idea a perfect date either, McCall.” Derek stated unimpressed. “besides, I have plans.”

“Oh in that case you’re perfect,” Scott stated, his entire demeanor changing at the idea of inconveniencing the Agent. Scott cheerfully hooked one of Derek’s arms and started dragging him off to the party.

“No.” Derek stated sternly planting his feet. He turned his disapproving gaze to Stile who was already starting his examination, ignore the two. “Bones. Bones come one. Stiles!”

“Oh suck it up, it’s just for a little bit, twenty minutes, and then you can tap out, Ok?” Stiles asked finally looking up at the two brunets, “Please?” He said giving Derek a pleading look.

Derek tried to fight against it, but after a few moments he groaned in frustration and finally relented, letting Scott drag him off, leaving Stiles with his body. It was not because of the doe eyes, it was not. It was cause he needed the body examined, that was all.

* * *

 

Allison and Matt sat in Allison's office Allison with a small arm-less bear clutched in her hands, a needle in the other. Matt sat across from her in a similar position, though his bear didn’t look quite as good as Allison’s own. It was a patch work of random fabrics, and one of the eyes was smaller than the other.

“There you go Matt, you got it, it looks great.” Allison encouraged.

“Yeah you don’t believe that. Neither do I for that matter. It’s a mess.” Matt stated in frustration before poking himself in the thumb for the second time. “Fuck!”

“Aw, Matt no, it’s great, for your first bear, I’m sure your cousin will love it, because it came from you.” Allison tried.

“You think?”

“I know. Besides it gives him charm,” Allison stated with a soft smile.

“Hey!” Scott greeted rushing into the room with a beaker full of a clear liquid. “There you are,” he exclaimed pulling Matt up from his spot, causing his bear to drop from his hands as Scott dragged him out. “Bye Allison!” He yelled as they scurried out, leaving Allison confused. 

“We've got about half a liter of pure alcohol here. Dump it in the eggnog, and we've got the best Christmas party in history.” Scott explained excitedly as they reached the stairs to the cat walk.

“You tried that last year, do you really think that you’ll get away with it this year?”

“Of course, cause this year I have you.”

The two rushed across the cat walk making their way through the Lab.

“Scott! That better not be 100%!” A voice called from below. The two scientist looked over the railing to see Stiles standing in the center of the Lab platform arms crossed over his chest and an unimpressed look in his face.

“What of course not,” Scott deflected.

“It was his idea,” Matt accused pointing a finger at the Entomologist.

“Scott dump it,” Stiles instructed.

“But-“

“Matt, I need you to clean these bones,” Stiles said shifting his gaze to the intern.

“Now?” Matt whined as Scott laughed.

“And I need you to search the clothing for insect evidence,” Stiles continued turning back to Scott.

“But Stiles-“

“And where’s Derek? I thought you were off making his life miserable?”

“ Believe me he was,” a gruff voice answered from the stairs of the lab platform, the telltale sound of a key card being swiped followed by the well known beep. Stiles whipped around to look at the agent.  “What do you got there?” Derek asked gesturing to the papers in Stiles hands.

Stiles didn’t answer just turned back to Scott and Matt with an authoritative look, waving his hand in dismissal.

“Can’t let up even a little on Christmas, Bones?” Derek teased.

“Tickets to Paris, two of them. One way. Pan Transit Airlines. Blank.” Stiles answered skipping Derek’s question.

“Pan Transit went out of business in the sixties,” Derek stated curiously.  Stiles put down the tickets in one of the evidence trays and turned to the second one. Picking up a pair of tweezers he pulled a bullet out of the tray.

“This was still in the skull,” He stated holding it up for Derek to see.

“.22 caliber. Matches the gun he was holding. Did you open up the suitcase?” Derek deduced before moving over to the case mentioned.

 “Nope.”

“Why not?”

“It could hold information that would compromise my objectivity.”

“Oh, yeah, like a name and address?” Derek deadpanned.

“I prefer to make unbiased initial observations.” Stiles stated with a shrug, he had his ways.

Derek sighed pinching the bridge of his nose, why did he put of with this? He thought with a shake of his head.

* * *

 

Matt was hunched over the freshly cleaned bones, examining every surface of every bone like Stiles had taught him. There were no outwardly obvious issues with the bones he would have to take core samples, Matt thought as Scott breezed into the room.

“I brought an eggnog,” Scott stated happily.

“I can't drink while I work,” Matt muttered thoughtfully.

“Good thing I didn't bring it for you,” Scott chided taking a drink from his eggnog. Matt rolled his eyes at the scientist, who he was older then Matt he would never know.

“Shouldn’t you be pulling samples from the victim’s clothes?” Matt asked, trying to get Scott out of his way.

“Done. Just waiting for results.” Scott stated taking another drink.

Matt moved away from the body a pulled a mask out of one of the drawars and putting it on before pulling out a second one and tossing it to Scott.

“Put on a mask. I'm gonna take a couple core samples,” He instructed pulling out the bone saw.

“Okay,” Scott complained placing the mask over his mouth and nose as Matt started up the saw. As Matt worked on the bone, Scott pulled his mask away from his mouth to take another sip of his eggnog. Matt isn’t even half way through the bone before there is an alarm going off. The blaring sound deafening, as the emergency lights start to go off.

 

~Meanwhile~

 

Stiles and Derek are both hunched over the suitcase that came in with their body, when Lydia walks onto the platform.

“Agent Hale, a pleasure as always,” Lydia greeted with an almost predatory gaze racking up and down Derek’s body.

“Down Lydia,” Stiles stated with a smile, seeing how Lydia’s gaze was making Derek slightly uncomfortable.

“Aww let me have my fun Stiles,” Lydia whined draping herself over the Anthropologist lazily. Stiles could smell the Alcohol on her breath as she yawned widely in his face, and he grimaced. Just as he was about to say something to the Coroner when the Alarm started blaring. Red emergency lights flashing at every exit.

“What's that?” Derek asked immediately going on high alert hand flying to his fire arm.

“Biological contamination,” Lydia muttered unfazed by the loud noise, as if it was a normal occurrence, still draped over Stiles who was trying to hold her up. The lights continued to flash along with the blaring alarms. Allison walked out of her office bleary eyed and slightly annoyed, obviously having just woken up from a nap.

“Whoa!” Derek exclaimed as the Sliding doors started to shut. He rushed over to the entrance but made it too late as they slammed shut and locked.

“The doors seal automatically. Don't worry about it,” Allison yelled making her way up to the platform to relieve Stiles of the octopus that was Lydia.  

“What do you mean, don't worry about it?” Derek asked turning on the artist irritated.

“There's no use panicking until we know what it is,” Stiles explained handing a slowly sobering up Lydia to Allison.

“What, _what_ is?” Derek asked.

Just then Scott and Matt walked into the lab, both sopping wet and naked except for the towels both held around their waists.  

“Uh, we might know,” Scott admitted.

“I cut into the fallout shelter bones and the biohazard alarm went off,” Matt explained.

“Were you conforming to autopsy protocol?” Lydia asked, her cognitive functions coming back enough for her to stand on her own.

“One of us was,” Matt stated in annoyance gesturing to Scott.

 “The other was... drinking an eggnog,” Scott admitted embarrassed and upset with himself for being so stupid.

“And you didn't have your mask on.” Lydia finished disappointedly, now fully sober.

This was a problem. A big problem.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise bitches I'm alive!... I would like to clarify that I do not think that any of you are bitches it was a joke. Soooo Surprise Bitches! Who is ready for a new chapter? I'm so sorry this took so long but things have been weird, I'm back now though and ho[efully will get a lot more writing done int he months to come. So enjoy this next chapter and let me know what you think.
> 
> Check out the Series tumblr for updates and art.  
> https://www.tumblr.com/blog/sterekbonesau

The group was gathered in Stiles office, spread out over the room. Both Scott an Matt were situated on the couch as far from each other as they could get, still in just their towels. Stiles sat on his desk, legs crossed, while Derek paced the room glaring at both Matt and Scott. Lydia was sat in one of Stiles armchairs rubbing her temples, the obvious signs of a headache. Allison was half asleep in the other armchair in the room. Every monitor in the room was being used, the face of Hal Flitmen dressed in a Santa suit looking at them from every angle, it was like a horrible form of punishment.

“The pathogen is coccidioidomycosis,” Hal stated in a monotone voice.  

“Valley fever?” Lydia asked still rubbing circles into her temples.

 “It was picked up in the scanner in the discharge vent at Mr. Daehler’s station.” Hal explain giving a pointed look to Matt.

“What's valley fever?” Derek interjected confused.  

Jumping at the opportunity to show off Matt answered, “It's a fungus that can lead to pneumonia, meningitis, spontaneous abortion, death.” He listed un helpfully.

“The alarm went off after, Matt cut into a human bone. That must have been the source,” Lydia deduced.

“Was he following autopsy protocol?” Hal asked in a skeptical tone, it was one thing to be scolded as an adult, but it was another thing entirely to be scolded as an adult by Santa Claus.

“Uuuuh mostly…” Stiles admitted, he didn’t like throwing Scott under the bus but..

“I was drinking an eggnog,” Scott stated raising a guilty hand, Santa looked at the entomologist disappointed.  

“And now he's there with you breathing the same air,” Hal concluded in an irritated tone. It was Christmas, they got it, no one wanted to be stuck there, but that was how it was.

“Hey, I got into the decontamination shower with Matt. Haven't I been through enough hell?” Scott complained, it was like watching a high school student wiggle their way out of a detention. Some people just never grew up.

“Is he contagious?” Derek asked.

“Dr. McCall may have inhaled the spores, yes,” Hal answered despondently.

“Okay, it must suck to be McCall right now, but the rest of us, we didn't inhale,” Derek stated almost in a panic. “So it's okay if I go, right?” He asked hopefully.

“Scott, may have exhaled the spores all over us,” Lydia provided unhelpfully in a both irritated and concerned sounding tone.

“We have no choice but to impose quarantine. Valley fever can be fatal, and we can't risk a pandemic. Just calm down and let us handle things from this side.” Hal explained, Stiles wasn’t sure, but it seemed as if Hal was almost happy with quarantining them. “Don’t do anything stupid in that time.” He stated in a tone of finality.

“Anyone besides me worried that a guy dressed like Santa is in charge?” Scott snarked irritated not realizing that Hal was still on the line.

“Merry Christmas,” Hal stated coldly a glare directed at Scott, who shrank into his spot on the couch with a huff as the screens all shut off.  

It’s quiet for a moment before Derek broke it, “If this is fatal, I will shoot both of you.” He threatened before storming out of the office in frustration, phone in hand.

“Maybe you guys could go get dressed,” Allison suggested with a awkward smile. The two got up with looks of justified shame.

* * *

 

 

The bones had been moved into an air tights container to protect everyone. Matt had changed into a different set of clothes, it wasn’t unusual for them all to have extra clothes in their offices. Staying at the office was pretty normal for the team at the Jeffersonian so they all had extra clothes. Matt had his hands deep in the air lock, checking the bones the best he could, when Stiles walked up to the platform.  

“I zapped the bones with ultraviolet light and arranged them on the isolation table so we won't have to worry about spores.” Matt explained pulling his hands out the gloves. “In addition, I found this sewn into the lining of his clothing.” He added going over to one of the trays and plucking a bagging with a gold ring inside passing it to Stiles, who accepted it and began examining the ring.

“A woman's wedding band,” Stiles observed.

“Two tickets to Paris, a wedding band, a picture begins to form,” Matt suggested.

“We don't form pictures. We accumulate evidence.” Stiles corrected coldly, there were no jumping to conclusions in his lab. “Dental work?”

“Acrylic resins in the interior fillings from the 1940s. Childhood tibia break. Bad enough that he walked with a limp.” Matt listed before handing Stiles another baggie, “Also, he wore a toupee.”

Stiles inspected the toupee quickly, “It doesn't seem to have degraded.” He concluded looking to Matt for some answers.

“It's made of a synthetic called Dynell. It couldn't have looked good.” Matt explained with a snicker.

“Good work, Matt,” Stiles praised as two men in yellow hazmat suits walking into the lab. “Time for our meds.”

* * *

 

 

They all stood in a line as men in hazmat suits stood in front of them, Hal at the head explaining the procedure. There were six syringes on an intimidating metal tray in front of them just waiting to be plunged into the fleshy parts of all their butts.

“This is a cocktail of four antifungal drugs, including amphotericin B. Orally, you'll be taking ketoconazole, fluconazole, and itraconazole.” Hal explained as the other two on the hazmat team started going around to each of them syringe in hand.

“That's great. Then we can leave?” Derek grunted as he readjusted his dress pants and belt.

“We won't know for a couple of days if the fungus took hold in your system,” Hal answered. It was almost as if he was enjoying this.

“So you're saying that we're stuck here?” Derek asked irritated, Hal only nodded his head in conformation. “I have… obligations. I can’t be stuck here.” Derek defended, as if explaining he had other places to be would get him out faster.

“We all have _obligations._ ” Scott sneered rolling his eyes, as he adjusted his jeans.

“I'm supposed to go to Quebec,” Lydia said proving the point further, sending a glare in Scott’s direction, who made an indignant sound at the accusation.

“Hey who forced me to go to the party where I drank to much and had to hide from Crystal?” Scott shot back, sending a look to Allison.

“Who never should have cut into a bone with a drunken fool in the room?” Allison countered, all eyes turning to Matt.

“Who brought us human remains just to ditch a little paperwork?” Matt snarled bringing things back to Derek.

“Oh, you're saying this is my fault?” Derek stated irritated.

“You knew, Stiles couldn’t resist,” Lydia deduced.

“I'd have been able to resist if I was in Peru, where I wanted to be,” Stiles stated irritated.

“You're blaming me?” Lydia asked offended. Stiles gave her a look as if to say ‘if the shoe fits.’

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Hal said, his voice raised slightly to grab their attention. “We'll have sleeping bags delivered. Please have your loved ones call me and we'll set up some kind of safe, quarantined visit on Christmas Eve.” He stated before finishing packing up the rest of the equipment   “Oh, and be prepared for side effects.” He added with a bit of a twisted smile.

“Nausea, fever, insomnia,” Stiles listed quickly.

“In very rare cases, euphoria, dream state, mild hallucinations,” Hal added.

“I'll take that, please,” Allison chimed with a happy smile. All of them could do with a drug induced high at the moment honestly.

“Early symptoms mimic a common cold,” Hal called as he filed out with the rest of his team, leaving the Jeffersonian crew alone with each other.

“What if it manifests?” Lydia asked trying to cover up any possible hint that she might be freaking out, she wasn’t doing a very good job in Stiles opinion. But before Stiles could comfort her Matt jumped in.

“First treatment protocol involves extremely painful injections into the base of the brain,” he answered with a smile, his think being that the more information the better everyone would feel. His thinking was wrong. And again, before Stiles could even start to diffuse a situation, all eyes were drawn to Derek, who had wandered off during the debacle.  

“You know what?” the agent asked looking up into the ceiling, his stance slumped forward, struggling to stay on his feet. “I never realized how pretty all this shiny shit is,” he stated with a giggle. The team looked at the agent with a mix of horror (Matt), amusement (Stiles, Lydia), and disappointment (Scott and Allison).

“That is so not fair,” Scott whined before walking off to his office. Stiles pulled out his phone excited to capture Derek’s embarrassment on film for personal black mail.

“You guy’s ever notice that?” Derek asked his voice wispy and happy.   

 

* * *

 

 

One of the perks of working with dead bodies was that sleeping on an autopsy table wasn’t stomach turning. This was the thought running through Matts head as he stared at the ceiling of the autopsy room wrapped in his sleeping bag. The Hazmat team had brought them all sleeping bags and pillows for the night, and they had all paired off quickly enough. They drew straws for who would deal with Derek for the night and fortunately for him he had gotten Scott instead for the agent.

“I can’t believe I’m going to miss picking a tree with my brothers this year,” Matt lamented with a sigh, “Decorating with everyone, 40 people who are happy to see you and love you.”

“Well I’m not to stoked either, can’t believe I’m going to miss dinner with my parents.” Scott complained.  “I only get to see them all together once a year,” They both stared up at the ceiling in silence cursing the fates or whatever.

Allison and Lydia lay out in Allison’s office head to head. The smell of lavender that was constantly present around the artist hung heavy in the air, trying to lull the two to sleep. Trying.

“Tomorrow I was supposed to leave for Quebec.” Lydia griped, Allison turned to the Director with an unimpressed expression. “You wanna know the true meaning of Christmas? It's being inside a 300-year-old inn with a French Canadian masseuse when there's ten feet of snow outside,” The strawberry blond lamented.

“You know what we have to do right?” Allison stated.

Lydia turned her head to the artist with a questioning look, “break out and go to Quebec anyways?”

“No save Christmas,” Allison stated as if it were obvious.

“No.”

“What do you mean no, we have to make decorations, and do a secret Santa.”

“I hate secret Santa, no one ever gets me anything useful,” she whined, “It’s much easier to make a registration and people can pick from it for gifts.” She stated.

“It’s Christmas not a wedding Lydia, you don’t need a registration,” Allison giggled, the idea absurd.

“maybe to you, but I haven’t gotten something for a birthday or Christmas I haven’t liked in six years.”

Allison could only stare at the coroner before they both broke into quiet giggles. “You’re crazy Lydia.”

“Think you mean Genius.”

“Alright Crazy Genius.”

“It will do I suppose,” The blond sighed before the two broke out into more laughter.

* * *

 

 

 ‘This was so unfair,’ Stiles thought staring up at the ceiling of his office listening to the ramblings of Derek’s drug induced high. Like he said unfair. All because when they were splitting up into groups, Derek looked like a sad puppy every time something was suggested where he wasn’t with Stiles.

“Hey,” Derek mumbled, from the floor where he was stretched out, “what are those little tiny lights dancing on the ceiling?”

“For the third time, those are minute firings of neurons on your optic nerve due to your reaction to the antifungal cocktail.” Stiles explained dully, exhausted slightly annoyed.

“Wow. They're beautiful.”

“You are so stoned, Hale,” Stiles said with a chuckle, who would have thought that the broody and clean cut Derek Hale would be such a space case when high. Derek started laughing as Stiles started.

“Good. Let's hope it lasts long enough to keep this from being the worst Christmas of Lauras life,” Derek lamented sadly.

Stiles felt a sort of weight fall on him, the idea of Derek spending the holidays with a woman was some how upsetting to the anthropologist. He didn’t know why but for some reason the news was like a brick to the face. Of course Derek was in a relationship, someone like Derek wouldn’t stay single for long right. “So Laura your girlfriend?”

“Oh God no,” Derek scoffed. There was a rustling sound of vinyl against the ground, “Here this is my Daughter, Laura,” Derek explained handing a photo to Stiles.

The little girl in the picture was adorable looked so much like Derek it was scary but there was something else there, and Stiles assumed it was from the mother.

“She’s beautiful,” Stiles complimented handing the photo back with a smile.

“Yeah she is,” he agreed taking the photo and smiling at the small girl in the photo. “She’s three here, just turned four though. Her mother wouldn’t marry me, so my Parental rights are… Vague at best.” The agent admitted sadly. Stiles didn’t think that if Derek were sober he would be talking about this so he was going to remember every word. For scientific reasons. “She lets her come over on my birthday, kind of like a birthday present she says,” he explained sorrowfully.

“So you don’t get to spend Christmas with her?”

“No I do it’s just on new years instead, my birthday is December 25th, so we kind of switch things up.”

“You were born on Christmas? That must have sucked when you were a kid, having your birthday and the biggest holiday in the country on the same day.” Stiles stated rolling over to look at the agent.

Derek let out a small laugh before turning to look at Stiles, “No, it was great, my family basically did what I do now with Laura, Christmas was my Birthday so Christmas moved to the end of the month, and my mom was amazing, there was a rule of no Christmas decorations before the 25th, so that it wouldn’t seem like it was over shadowing my birthday, it was nice.”

“Sounds…nice,” it did, it made Christmas seem almost less bitter.

“Yep,” Derek rolled back so he was staring back at the ceiling. “I usually get Laura a great gift even though it’s my birthday, but this year…”

“Yeah this year, Sorry Derek.” Stiles said before they fell back into silence, both staring back at the ceiling.

“Hey Stiles, what are those little lights on the ceiling again?” Derek mumbled sleepily, Stiles laughed at the cruelty of reality. Yeah definitely wouldn’t be saying any of this is he was sober. He waited up until the soft sounds of Derek’s breathing evened out. Making sure the agent was asleep Stiles got up and made his way out to the Lab floor. His brain was too Loud to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So what did you think? Good? Bad? Needs work? Let me know in the comments
> 
> Check out the Series tumblr for updates and art.  
> https://www.tumblr.com/blog/sterekbonesau


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooo I have been away for a very long time. I am so sorry, I have finished this story though so there should be a consistency to updates now. I hope you like this chapter and I know it's short. Let me know what you think of it and if you find any inconsistency's.
> 
> Check out the Series tumblr for updates and art.  
> https://www.tumblr.com/blog/sterekbonesau

Stiles was in full blown anthropologist mode, hunched over his microscope going over the many samples they were given for the case. He was deep in a particularly interesting part of bone when the sound of someone tripping pulled him clear out. He wiped around to find Derek tripping up the stairs, a stupid elf hat perched on his head. “Hale?” He could have sworn he had left him in his office, dead to the world. 

“Bones, it's after midnight. Hmm?” Derek chimed popping up from behind the airlock container, an obvious skip in his step. “Christmas Eve day. Both an eve and a day. It's a Christmas miracle.” Derek stated in a half whisper, as if it was something to be truly excited about. 

“Still enjoying your medication, then?” The anthropologist observed, a small smile crossing his lips. It was unusual to see Derek so care free and open. Kind of nice if you asked him. Derek strode over to the table pulling one of the stools with him and taking a seat, rather ungracefully.

“Okay, so, what are we looking at?” The agent asked with a quick drum of his hands. He probably wouldn’t be able to understand what Stiles was saying, but Stiles thought he would humour the agent. 

“There are traces of lead and nickel in the dead guy's osteological profile,” Stiles explained simply as he could. Derek only nodded his head as if to say he understood, but from the closed eyes and pouty lips Stiles highly doubted it. He looked like some one who was pretending to listen instead of actually listening. 

“Hey Stiles, you don’t seem very upset about missing Christmas; Why?” Derek asked laying his head and most of his torso on the light table arms stretched out.

“Indications show that Christ, if he existed, was born in late spring and that the celebration of his birth was shifted to coincide with the pagan rite of the winter solstice so that early Christians weren't persecuted,” Stiles recited in a robotic tone. 

“How long did you rehearse that?” Derek asked skeptically, “Come on what’s the real reason, are you just a Grinch?” 

“What? No! It’s a fact, why would I celebrate someone’s birthday not you their birthday?” Stiles stated. “You should understand that mister Christmas on new years.” He mumbled under his breath. 

“I don’t celebrate Christmas on Christmas yeah, but not because I don’t believe in it or think that it’s stupid,” Derek pointed out simply. “And I especially don’t ruin it for others,” Derek finished sending a pointed look at the Anthropologist.

“What are you saying, I ruined Christmas?” Stiles asked in an offended tone, how dare he. Stiles didn’t ruin Christmas for anyone, he didn’t even celebrate it!

“Yeah, and you ruin it for the squint squad by making them work on a case about a guy who's been sealed up in a fallout shelter for fifty years,” Derek accused silencing Stiles, which was a feat.

“Yeah and I bet whoever lost him would love to know what happened to him,” Stiles shot back, obviously upset with the subject of conversation. 

“I’m sure you’re right, but the family they still have shouldn’t have to suffer because of something that happened fifty years ago.” Derek stated giving Stiles a knowing look, as if he were talking about more than just their victim. “They’ve waited this long and probably moved on, maybe you should too.” There was silence between them as the words settled over them. Stiles was sure it was just inebriated rambling, Derek didn’t know what he was talking about just loopy. So then why did it hit so hard for Stiles. 

“But what if they can’t forget? Can’t forgive?”

“I never said forget, Bones, I just said they should keep going despite the past, stop being afraid of it, and keep living it with those we still have.” Derek stated, as if from experience, before getting up and giving Stiles a pat on the shoulder before walking off the platform. Stiles just stared after the agent in disbelief. How could he be read so easily. No he couldn’t Derek was just spewing random bullshit, rambling about anything that came to his head. It wasn’t directed at him. But what if it was? Stiles shook his head in disbelief, no Derek was just high on drugs, it didn't mean anything, Stiles told himself going back to his microscope, but there was still this gnawing at the back of his brain, he tried to ignore it. Tried.

• 

Morning eventually arrived and with it the unfortunate realization that it wasn’t all a dream. It was still Christmas eve, it was still valley fever, and they were still in lock down. Derek hadn’t slept much after his talk with Stiles that morning, to restless despite the drug induced high. That left him alone with his thoughts and with too much time on his hands; so, he did what he always did to shut down his brain; worked out. He did sit up, push up, jogged around the platform, anything to distract his already uncontrolled thoughts. He did it so well he didn’t notice the long periods of time that a certain Anthropologist was watching him, before grumbling about stupid anatomy being so distracting. 

Derek was in the middle of pull ups when he heard Matt emerging from the autopsy room.

“In some cases of valley fever, suppurating skin lesions appear,” he stated animatedly to a very grumpy looking McCall.

“Could someone in a position of responsibility please order Matt to shut up?” The Entomologist grumbled rubbing the sleep from his eyes. 

“Happily,” Derek grunted as he dropped from the bar he was using with a thud. Scott rolled his eyes seeing Derek without his shirt on, grumbling something as he walked towards the scent of coffee. Derek assumed it was a thank you of sorts. It probably wasn’t, but he chose to assume so. 

The three men walk in the same directing each in a different state of waking. They found Lydia standing by a cart full of fresh fruit, cereal, coffee and OJ, pouring herself a large cup of the latter. “Morning gentlemen,” she greeted with an overly sweet tone, obviously still angry with Matt and Scott. They were both smart enough to not reply. Derek just nodded and made his way over to where his shirt was draped over the railing, resetting himself. 

“Coffee. Coffee.” Allison groaned shuffling in like a zombie. Scott watched her like the sun itself had risen for the first time in months. 

“Good morning, Allison,” Scott greeted having perked up at her presence, she just waved at his sleepily bee lining for the coffee. 

“Where'd this come from?” She asked as she made herself a sugary sweet concoction.

“Hazmat team brought it over early this morning,” the blonde explained picking up an apple and inspecting it with dubiously. “Very appetizing,” she stated before taking a bit of the fruit, finding it suitable. She chewed unenthusiastically as she turned too look at Derek who was slipping his shirt back on and returning items to his pockets. “Are you back with us, Agent?” She asked.

“Yeah, think so,” he stated curtly, he seemed normal, but it may still be in his system. 

“So,” Allison interrupted, “since we're gonna be stuck together for Christmas, we should make the most of it,” she stated simply. The rest of the scientists looked at here in question waiting for he to elaborate. 

“How?” Matt asked curiously. 

“We'll decorate this place and exchange handmade gifts,” she explained excitedly.

“That’s a great idea Allison,” Scott praised, far to excited to please if you asked Derek.

“I can get behind that,” Matt added sipping his juice. 

“Sigh, I guess it’s better than mopping around this place, I'm in.” 

“How 'bout Bones?” Derek asked not wanting the anthropologist to be left out. He was met with shaking heads and skeptical faces. “Come on. What's the deal with Stiles and Christmas?” Derek asked incredulously. It was obvious to anyone with eyes that the man wasn’t very fond of the holiday. The Squints looked around at each other having a short conversation between themselves. 

Scott sighed sadly before stepping forward, “Not a lot of people know this, but Stiles and I grew up together, we've been best friends since we were four. Everything was great until we were about fifteen, that's when everything changed.” Scott explained in a grave tone, “that was when Stiles came to live with us for good.”

“Yeah I- I still don't get it,” Derek said confused. 

“Oh my God,” Lydia uttered in realization.

“What?”

“Stiles parents disappeared just before Christmas when he was fifteen,” Scott finished.

“And he never knew what happened to them,” Lydia finished. 

“Well that explains a lot,” Derek said in a tone of realization, thinking back to the conversation they had had that morning. 

“Yeah,” Scott finished the conversation trailing off to silence for a few seconds, It seemed like Scott wanted to say more, but he kept his eyes down and his mouth shut as the awkwardness of the situation continued to build. 

“Alright, we need a way to choose our Secret Santa’s,” Allison stated clapping her hands to break the tense situation. 

“I could build a random generator,” Matt suggested.

“Ah, wouldn't it be better to match complimentary people in a premeditated manner?” Lydia chimed in, “cause I don’t really want to get something I won’t like.”

“You get what you get and like it, Lyds,” Allison said shutting down the director.

“I've got five numbers in my head and five letters. You tell me the number and I'll tell you the matching letter.” Scott stated,

“Are the letters and numbers sequential?” 

“Yes, we'll go in order from oldest to youngest.” 

“Six,” Matt answered.

“There's no six,” Scott exclaimed. 

“A through E and one through five, Matt.” 

The three continued to bicker for a few minutes before Derek interrupted with a cough. The three turned to the Agent and Allison holding out an ice bucket with small scraps of paper in it. One for each of them.

“Pick a name, and if you get your own, put it back in,” He stated curtly.

“Oh, that could work,” Lydia agreed a little thrown, but humble enough to admit to it being a better idea. All three stepped forward and went to pull a name out. Allison leaned towards Derek with an impressed smile and mumbled a simple, “good job.”

• 

With the lab empty the team wasn’t restricted to anyone section for work, so Stiles was taking the opportunity to work on the cat walk, closer to the windows, able to look outside at the world. He had all the files spread out on the table in front of him reviewing his findings. Derek was pacing back and forth on the cat walk talking on his phone, a sour look on his face. He hung up as the conversation finished and walked back over to the sitting area and dropped down on to the couch across from Stiles. 

“Feds seized the house from a man named Gil Adkins in the sixties. Processed for crimes ranging from fencing, dealing in jewels, stolen art. Adkins built the shelter in '51, he sealed it in '58, he died in '83.” He explained, it wasn’t much but it was something to help put the pieces together. “What about you? What do you got?” 

“Uhg, nothing much special about our victim,” Stiles stated, “you already know about the toupee; below average height, below average weight, a little frail. Had a bad back. He had a hunch, maybe from paperwork.” He continued in a frustrated tone. Derek just grunted eyes fixed on the table. Stiles slid a picture over to him. Derek looked up at the Anthropologist in question. 

“Contents of his pockets,” he answered. Derek grunted in response picking up the photo and looking over it. 

“Compass, pen knife, some change,” He listed off before sighing and throwing the picture back down. “Listen, I got Martin for this Secret Santa thing, and I don't know what to get-“ 

“You know an entire holiday dedicated to material things, and the idea of spending time with people we barely talk to so that we can feel better about not seeing them the rest of the year, seems pretty cruel.” 

“Some of us don’t need it as an excuse, for some of us it’s the only chance to have any sense of normality,” Derek countered.

“Yeah and to some of us it brings up bad memories,” Stiles spat, but before Derek could ask about it the man changed the subject, pointing to a picture on the table. “Any idea with this is?” he asked pointing to a small paper square, it was yellowing and frayed at the edges, insignificant.

“No.”

“Me neither. Try Dr. Martin,” he stated standing up and making his way out of the sitting area.

“You know, Bones, you make it very, very hard for me to be nice to you,” Derek grumbled as the Scientist walked away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So what you think? things got a little more serious huh? A little more personal. I think it works, I like it. Hopefully you guys did too. This installment is done, so I'll be posting more chapters sooner, And the next Episode will be out by the end of the month.
> 
> Check out the Series tumblr for updates and art.  
> https://www.tumblr.com/blog/sterekbonesau

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked it and some of the changes. As things go on I am becoming more and more confident in the changes I am making so there will be more, but I will be keeping it to the plot pretty solidly.  
> Let me know what you guys think by commenting, or leaving kudos. Thanks all and happy scrolling.
> 
> Check out the Series tumblr for updates and art.  
> https://www.tumblr.com/blog/sterekbonesau


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